Why is it Always Guns?
by butterfly.cell
Summary: “Surely there’re planets out there that aren’t all sci-fi smoke and metal, defined by guns and bombs. It would just be nice to see some proof of that, Jack. Especially in this job.” - Jack/Ianto, minor mentions of the Robin Hood Panto


This evolved from the need to put a sword in Torchwood after seeing the Robin Hood panto for a second time... It was so unbelievably good! But yeah, this just sort of evolved as I typed... well, I'll let you see for yourself! I'm quite new to the concepts this covers in the sdecond part, so I hope it worked and I hope you enjoy it as much as I liked writing it!

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, Russel T. Davies deserves your praise.

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**Why is it Always Guns?**

Ianto stood at the counter in the armoury, logging and processing the latest batch of guns and bombs to be sent their way. It seemed to Ianto like he did this job every day, but in actual fact, he knew it was once a fortnight.

It didn't stop him feeling distinctly bored and demoralised every time he had to do it though. The novelty of handling alien weaponry had worn off after a couple of months of the job. He'd taken it over after their return from the Brecons, Jack deciding to give him more responsibility. Seeing as Suzie was still dead and showing no signs of returning, he'd considered 'Alien Weaponry Logs' to be another feather to Ianto's proverbial cap.

Of course, that came hand in hand with a new and strengthened trust between the two men. Ianto was grateful for that part. That bond had been enough to keep Ianto going through the other man's month long disappearance, the job being one of his more solid symbols of it.

Now though, he really just wanted to go home.

With a sigh, he logged and tagged the last three guns from the box and locked them away, double locking the 'secure armoury' – for the hatch he posted the items through was a second entrance to Jack's 'secure archives' – and heading off to make himself a cup of coffee. It was the evening and the others had left about half an hour ago.

"Hey, Ianto." A voice called as he switched the machine on, making him look over his shoulder to find Jack a few metres away. "Do we have any interesting new editions?"

"We had three more of those grey blocks and several new types of handguns, rifles and detonators, sir." Ianto said calmly, trying and failing to keep his opinion on the task from his voice.

"C'mon, Ianto! This stuff's exciting. New alien cultures and all that jazz." Jack chuckled with a grin, wrapping his arms around Ianto's waist and resting his chin on the young man's shoulder. Ianto frowned slightly and huffed his disapproval.

"I would be very disappointed if all alien planets out there looked like they should be in Bladerunner or the Fifth Element." Ianto poured two cups of coffee and took a sip of his own, relaxing slightly at the taste and warmth. "Surely there're planets out there that aren't all sci-fi smoke and metal, defined by guns and bombs. It would just be nice to see some proof of that, Jack. Especially in this job."

Jack let him go and moved round to take his cup of coffee off the counter, reaching out and tilting Ianto's chin round to look at him. With a small smile, he leaned forwards and kissed him gently, no hint of lust or sex involved.

"Let me show you something." He said with a grin, taking Ianto's free hand and pulling him through to his office. He carefully set down their coffees and moved to the secure archives, punching in the code Ianto didn't recognise and calling up one of the items.

"Jack, have you-" He began, brow furrowed slightly.

"Would I really keep it from you if I'd changed the password?" Jack glanced over his shoulder with raised eyebrows and a sceptical look. Ianto shook his head and blushed slightly, sitting back on Jack's desk silently. "I keep some of my own things in a separate secure vault… You know, things I collected with the Doctor? I brought some back with me when I left the TARDIS. I didn't realise 'til I saw them again how much I'd missed them this last century."

As he spoke, the winch inside the wall had pulled up and item and Jack pulled it out with a flourish. Ianto's jaw dropped and he heard Jack's bark of laughter as he stared.

"This, Ianto, is 'Excalibur'." He said, resting the blade across his palms, the golden, ornate hilt on his left hand. The ruby set into the pommel glittered like freshly spilt blood. All this was nothing to the oil-like surface of the blade that moved through dim colours of the rainbow, set against the silver.

Pale letters and runes ran and morphed across the metal, following a cycle of what Ianto could only assume were different language from across the universe.

"Is this the actual Excalibur?" Ianto asked gently, still a little dazed by the hypnotising script. Jack saw the effect it had on him and quickly put it to one side, clicking his fingers in front of the young man's face. Ianto looked up with a start, his eyes confused.

"Almost. It's from a world where stories are currency. I was there with the Doctor and Rose for a couple of weeks and I went off to look through the markets. I ended up buying my food with the only story I could remember – Robin Hood and Excalibur." Jack grinned and Ianto looked at him pointedly.

"Since when did Robin Hood have Excalibur?" He asked condescendingly, trying to stop himself from laughing.

"Well… since I forgot what happened in Robin Hood and decided to put in a robot from the twenty second century and Camelot to fill the holes. It worked rather well! They forged that for me as a parting gift." Jack watched Ianto with a small smile – the young man was staring at the blade again, though no longer under its spell.

"But it's still a weapon, isn't it?" He said with a hint of sadness.

"Primarily? No, it's not. It strengthened psychic abilities, designed to help the bearer open themselves to imagination." Ianto's eyes were back on him. "As I understand it, every member of the society has an object with the same abilities, created from their first public tale. Sort of like coming-of-age, I guess."

"And you were a little late to the party, then?" Ianto replied with a grin that Jack rolled his eyes at. Ianto snorted gently and turned his attention back the sword.

As the cycle flickered through the English translations, he found it was reciting the part of the tale where Robin Hood went to Camelot to find the sword needed to defeat the evil Titan. It sounded suspiciously like a storyline from some sort of pantomime with its 'how many different stories can we put together and make it believable?' aspects. He wouldn't be surprised if Robin Hood had burst into song at various points in the tale.

"Want to see some more?" Jack asked, his voice eager and his eyes bright when Ianto looked up with a smile and a nod. The captain wasted no time in putting the sword back in the archives and calling up more from his personal collection.

He produced a string of shimmering blue grey pearls that soothed nausea when worn and a small stone on a leather thong that glowed slightly with warmth and courage when it touched skin. There were some pipes that looked like a musical instrument and an ornately gilded box that held a handful of intricately carved wooden charms in strange and beautiful designs that Ianto could only just begin to appreciate.

In another box, there were vials of antidotes and medication for diseases that were common in that world and time. There were strings of rare stones that held healing energy of another tribe, strips of the softest material Ianto had ever felt to wrap wounds cleanse drinking water. There was even a torque like bracelet, ornately wound together from many wires of fine, exotic metal, that was a gift for saving a little boy from a fire.

"This is my favourite though." Jack murmured. They were both in seats now, Jack behind his desk and Ianto opposite him, the items spread out between them, scattered throughout the mundane paperwork, pens and notes already covering the desk.

He lifted a smooth, flat stone from a container and placed it flush against his palm, folding his second hand over it and sighing heavily, his eyes closing and head bowing slowly - an automatic reaction.

Ianto watched in fascination as Jack's breathing slowed and his shoulders relaxed. His whole body was loosening and he sat motionless for a long while, all attention on the stone between his palms. Ianto felt a stab of longing at the sight. The moment seemed so perfect as the seconds and minutes ticked away.

It was with extreme disappointment when Jack suddenly took a deep breath and looked up, eyes shining with a kind of peace. His eyelids drooped a little and there was a sleepy, mysterious smile on his face as he turned his attention to Ianto, placing the stone carefully in front of the young man.

"Try it." He whispered, a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his face. Ianto watched him silently for a long time before taking the stone and copying Jack's movements.

As soon as his second hand enclosed the stone in his palms, he felt a wash of relaxation stream through his veins, making every single atom of his being calm and slow into what he could only describe as a trance.

He was aware of the tension bleeding from his tired and weary muscles and he was grateful for the disappearance of the nagging hunger and tiredness that had begun to plague him.

It wasn't that all worries were gone from his mind, but they were safely put away in a logical order, a place where he could pick and choose from. He could've dealt with them one by one, pulling each to the forefront of his mind – blank from anything else.

His mind was like a dark room, comforting and quiet, where not even his thoughts bothered him. He had the distinct feeling of sitting with his legs crossed, in his three piece suit minus the jacket and bare feet. That was an odd part. Yet the more he felt how he was sitting, the more solid he felt, looking down to see his legs and hands.

"_Can I come in?"_ came a familiar voice. Ianto looked up, seeing a shadow standing at his periphery.

"_If you come in, what will you see?"_ He was fairly sure that he wasn't hallucinating and the clarity of his thought process helped him decide it wasn't some trick.

"_Nothing."_ The voice answered honestly, the word ringing with an undeniable truth, the timbre growing more familiar as it echoed gently from the darkened walls.

"_Then why bother?"_ He didn't know why he asked, the words just came to him.

"_Because I wanted to share this with you."_ The voice was complete, the outline of the figure sharpening and becoming more distinctive as he gained a better focus on the presence.

"_What's happening, Jack?"_ He felt a slight feeling of uneasiness, but the intrigue and calm overruled it after a moment.

"_The stone is used as a meditation aid, for people with hectic lives. The Doctor keeps one by his bed, he's the one who gave this one to me."_ The figure came closer and it sketched and coloured to become Jack, light blue shirt sleeves rolled up, padding across the darkness in his socks.

"_Why aren't we wearing shoes?"_ Ianto asked with a slight frown.

"_I show you the beauties of a psychic connection and you ask me why your subconscious removed our shoes?"_ Jack looked at him sceptically and rolled his eyes.

"_Psychic?"_ Ianto simply raised his eyebrows, looking up to meet Jack's startlingly blue eyes. Had they always been like that?

"_Yup. The only way to do it is to completely clear and relax your mind. It comes with practice, patience and a great deal of time."_ Jack sat down next to him, tucking his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. _"I wasn't planning this, honestly."_

"_I believe you."_ The presence sitting next to him was unmistakably his lover, his captain, his friend. He was almost overwhelmed by the force of trust, belief and just sheer _emotion_ that he held for him.

"_It's just… Seeing you with the stone, the chance for me to do this… the temptation was too much."_ Jack admitted, looking away from Ianto as he mumbled to his knees.

"_I'm glad you gave in."_ He murmured gently, looking off into the distance. A comfortable silence fell between them.

"_So what do you think?"_ Jack's voice rang out gently, finally braking the silence, his head angled towards Ianto, still resting it against his knees.

"_Of what? The stone or the fact you're in my head?"_ Ianto glanced at him with a dry smile.

"_Well… I was going to ask about the stone, but now you mention it, answer both."_ Jack grinned in return and waited, the spark of intrigue ignited in him and the emotion rippling gently from him. Ianto seemed to soak it up, to absorb it a morph it, to take control and use it himself.

"_The stone is… interesting, to say the least. I get the feeling, though, that it's pretty hard to break away from, to lose this peace… addictive, even."_ Ianto's voice trailed off slightly as he stared down at his hands, a soft, pulsing light shimmering on his palms at the thought of the smooth, hard surface he could still feel against them.

"_And me?"_ Jack's voice was rough, low – harsh against the quiet, though still completely enticing.

"_You're a hundred times worse."_ He looked up seriously and their eyes locked in a strange fission, sparking and jumping as energy ran between them. There seemed to be no rules in this space of meditation, for Ianto would never have dreamed of confessing such a thing to Jack.

But the other man's response was just to reach out a hand and run his fingers gently across Ianto's cheek, sending a jolt of sensation through him. It was like Jack had reached inside him touch his very being. Now he knew precisely why he'd said it would be a hundred time worse. How could he leave this connection with Jack?

How could he return to his hectic world of danger and frustration, of pain and grief and despair? How could he leave this haven? At that moment, he just wanted to stay there forever, just him and Jack in the cocoon of calm and clarity that surrounded them.

"_Did it hurt you?"_ Jack asked carefully, hand falling to the floor, his eyes watching Ianto in concern. The young man only shook his head. _"This was part of my world, Ianto. Speaking and touching like this, it was always a traditional part of relationships."_

"_Which part?"_ Ianto asked slowly, his heart thudding. He was certain that Jack could both hear and feel it as much as he could. His ribs were suddenly feeling like a pretty poor barrier.

"_The most important part."_ Jack's words were earnest and the look in his eyes told Ianto it was the complete truth, at least, it was in his opinion.

"_Why?"_ The moment Ianto spoke, he realised that he could almost understand, but not quite. The words to describe it were veiled behind Jack's eyes, in his head.

"_Emotions are like air here, contact is so much more than physical and the truth can be distinguished in a fraction of a heartbeat. If your minds accepted and adapted…"_ Jack let his sentence hang open. He didn't want or need to finish. The trust, security and caring he felt ran from him like dry ice. Ianto was already absorbing it, sensing it. He would already know what he'd meant.

This time, it was Ianto who reached for Jack, his fingers shaking slightly as he moved to touch the hand propping the captain up. Both men turned the attention to the action, waiting for the moment that skin touched skin and all that followed.

Ianto's fingers hesitated, hovering over Jack's skin for a long, almost excruciating moment. In one, sudden move, his fingertips brushed Jack's fingers before he quickly gripped his hand, mind reeling from the rush of so much skin contact.

"_What does that mean?"_ Ianto asked, a little breathless. Jack turned his face up and smiled – one of his warm, genuine smiles that he seemed to reserve for very special occasions.

"_It doesn't have to mean anything, Ianto. Are you enjoying it?"_ Jack's tone was careful then as he slowly let go of Ianto's hand and moved round to face him completely, kneeling before him. This time, there seemed to be no emotion coming from him. He must've had practice at controlling them.

"_If I kissed you now, what would happen?"_ Ianto looked at him, meeting his eyes. His voice sounded quiet and tentative, though full of fascination that had possessed him at the sight of all the previous items, still strewn across Jack's desk.

"_You'd feel it with every single cell in your body, whatever emotion spurred you on racing tenfold._" Jack's eyes burned with a strange blue fire, the intensity almost double what it would be in body.

There was a beat of silence before Ianto leaned forwards, kissing Jack gently yet incredibly deliberately, hands coming up to rest against his neck as Jack's moved to the back of his head. Lips parted and breath mixed until the intoxication of the sensation running like fire through Ianto's veins made him forget to breathe.

Slowly, almost painfully, they pulled away from each other, Ianto trying to wrench free of the greed gripping his heart and Jack trying to stop himself from getting too attached to the feeling of Ianto's soul connected to his.

"_We have to go back, don't we?"_ Ianto asked, knowing without Jack having said a word, without even looking at him, that there was only so much of this a person could take – let alone someone from the wrong century who'd never experienced it before.

"_I'm sorry, Ianto. I just wanted you to know."_ Jack nodded, his eyes and expression apologetic.

"_Will we ever do this again?"_ For the first time since he'd entered this strange place, Ianto didn't have a good idea of what the answer would be.

"_Maybe, if you still want to afterwards. Your mind will fill again, there'll be some resentment, some suspicion. Your undeniable logic will tell you this was dangerous, that it's too risky and that one day, you won't be able to let it go. Then you'll avoid it, you won't let it happen again in case the next time is the time it consumes you."_ Jack watched him, his eyes sad, filled with regret. It hadn't been an impulse, but it had been a thought he'd reviewed and dealt with when he'd been holding the stone himself. He'd simply known that Ianto would love the peace and quiet to organise his thoughts.

"_You'll always bring me back to myself though."_ Ianto said with surety and truth that rang across them both, just like Jack's words had at the beginning.

"_Of course I will, but the day I have to force you from this place is that day you begin to resent me."_ Jack said with a bitter smile and soft snort of self-mockery. _"I care about you more than I have about anyone for a long time. The last thing I want is for you to hate me."_

"_You have a remarkable gift for winning my forgiveness, Jack. I wouldn't underestimate that."_ Ianto tried to lighten the suddenly close atmosphere, a crooked smile on his face that made Jack fall to ease a little.

"_Yeah,"_ Jack smiled, chuckling gently, _"I guess I do."_ He stood up and stretched a little, backing away slowly, eyes still startlingly blue as he stared at the young man. _"See you in a minute."_

Ianto nodded and watched as the colours bled away and his outline shifted until it was just his presence, slowly fading, drifting from his mind. Then he was alone, in the calm and the twilight, but the peace was now tainted by the bitter aftertaste of being left alone.

With a sigh, he concentrated on the hard surface he could feel with his palms, concentrated on sensation of his physical shape – his arms, his body, his legs, his feet still in their shoes and socks. Last of all, he felt for the usual clamour of his mind and turned a key, the thoughts and fears and emotions streaming out in a split second to reoccupy their space.

One deep breath and he was looking up, staring at Jack across the desk. He swallowed hard and placed the stone on the desk with shaking fingers, eyes concentrated and focussed on it as he got used to the normal rush of thoughts in his head once more. His inner monologue rolling at break neck speed as he processed what happened.

Before he could tear his eyes away, warm, soft lips were on his, large hands cupping his head gently, a tongue swiping his lower lip, questing for entry. Jack was there and Ianto could feel the pulse against his lips and could smell the pheromones and coffee. He was trying to show him that this world, the one where they lived and breathed, still held significance, still meant something.

Without needing to think, his hands moved to pull Jack closer, to deepen the kiss and fit their mouths together in that beautifully natural way that felt like they were designed for each other.

It may not have been followed by the strange rushing sensation, but it was a most acceptable alternative.


End file.
